Airtalk
by radishface
Summary: Gossip fuels the rumor mill at Dakota Union High, but Daisy figures things out. Virgil x Richie, among others.


**Airtalk**

_Disclaimers: Static Shock does not belong to me. Property of Dwayne McDuffie and Warner Bros._

_Summary: Gossip fuels the rumor mill at Dakota Union High, but Daisy figures something out. Virgil x Richie, among others._

**Radishface **

**x x x x x**

"Have you heard?"

"Now what, Frieda?"

"No, I'm serious, Daisy. You gotta pay attention to this one."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Thomas Kim? You remember him?"

"Yeah… he was the orange-haired Bang Baby with the attitude of a two-year old." Pause. "Oh, and he's in my literature class."

"And we're in the same physics period. And—oh, and he cheated on the physics test in Mr. Dean's class!"

"Thomas Kim? What the heck? Doesn't he study fourteen hours a day?"

"Well, apparently it wasn't enough. Five minutes before the end of the test he was looking over Richie's shoulder."

"Well, what are they going to do with him? What does Richie think?"

"Richie… well, Richie didn't look like he was too pissed off about it, but Mr. Dean was really mad."

"Isn't Thomas a teacher's pet? Wouldn't Dean let it slide?"

"Dean's a hardass, are you kidding?"

"So what's gonna happen to him?"

"Suspension?"

"He's got a hardcore Asian dad… that's kind of a dangerous move for the school to take, isn't it? He'll probably never see the light of day again."

"Well. I mean. I think it'll be okay. I mean, how's he going to cheat with only five minutes left in the test? Plus, it's _Richie_. Thomas could've done better. "

"Frieda… Richie's not the same guy he was before. _He_ must be studying 14 hours a day, he's acing every chemistry and physics test thrown his way. He's even beating me in lit."

"Richie? Really?"

"No kidding."

"Yeah, now that you mention it… he's _is_ smarter, isn't he? He walked out of the computer science final with a big A on his test. It was kind of hard to miss, he was making it so obvious."

"I don't see him as much anymore, though. He just must be studying his nuts off."

"Bad image, Daisy. I don't want to think about Richard Foley's nuts."

"How about Virgil's nuts?"

"Shut _up_, girl!"

"Now I know you've been seeing the underside of that big, brown popsicle…"

"How can you _say_ stuff like that?" Blushing.

"Oh, come on, Daisy. Half the school knows that you guys have something going on between you two. And you _know_ Virgil's gotta ask you to homecoming this year. It's about time."

Sighing. "Virgil's never around these days, either. He invites me to Burger Fool and then calls five minutes before we're supposed to meet and says old friends are coming in and he has to meet with them. Then again, that was a while ago."

"Well…" Tentatively. "Maybe he's just shy?"

Glare. "The boy isn't _shy_, Frieda, he's just shy of being a total _flake_. Do you know how many times he dropped our dates?"

"What about that time he took you to the B2K concert?"

"I ended up missing half of it." Pout.

"That wasn't _his_ fault."

"But all those other times--! Ah, oh well."

An agreeable sigh. "You know… boys will be boys."

"No, I don't." Slyly, "but Frieda, I hear that you've got a thing going with the hottest guy on this side of Dakota."

"What?! Where did you hear that…?"

Mysteriously. "Oh, I have my sources."

Furious blushing. "I don't think so. You're talking about Hotstreak, right?"

"Hotstreak, formerly known as Francis? Yes, I believe I am. Come on, dish. Why does the number one student at Dakota Union High associate with one of the city's most dangerous criminals? It must be an illicit love affair…"

"Come _on,_ you don't think that—"

"Word gets around, Frieda."

"Oh, shut _up_. So I saw him for a few weeks at the beginning of freshman year and the rumors haven't died down ever since. And he's not really a bad person, you know."

Incredulous. "Uh huh."

"_Really_. He's just really free-spirited."

"And a pyromaniac."

"And a pyromaniac… he's been working on it."

"Have you seen the police reports, girl? Or watched the news? He just hijacked a car the other day!"

"Hijacking a car is not like… grand theft auto, or anything."

"Actually, my friend, it is."

"Oh."

"Come on, Frieda. I could swear I saw you and him together the other day."

"_Okay_, I've had enough of the interrogation."

"Frieda, it's cool. You can tell me anything. Even if it's that you're seeing the baddest bad boy to ever hit the mean streets of Dakota."

"I'm not _seeing_ him. He just came up to my house the other evening and asked if I wanted a ride. And I had just had an argument with my parents, so I was feeling rebellious…"

Gentler. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"It's okay, Daisy… just the usual. My parents want me to stay in Dakota, take care of them and Grandma. I applied to college out of state without telling them, and you know I got accepted to the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern…"

"Same old, then."

"Yeah, except this time it got really bad because I said that she was so old it wouldn't matter if _bubbi _croaked anyways."

"…Bad step, girl."

"…Knock on wood. I am sorry for saying it, but still…"

Lightly, changing the subject. "So Francis decided to drop by and take you for a joyride?"

"He said he was "in the neighborhood." Hah, that's what he _always_ says."

"Come on, girl… you had to know that the car was stolen."

"Don't ask, don't tell." Brazen grin. "His deal, not mine. And the man can take care of himself."

"Suddenly the boy who harassed you back in the freshman year has become a "man…" He must be pretty smooth, Frieda." Teasingly.

"He's developed a bit of humility since Static has been beating his ass all over the place." Shrugging. "And as for the stolen car? Don't ask, don't tell."

"Speaking of 'don't ask, don't tell…'"

"…Richie's earring?"

"_When_ and _why!_"

"No idea. Which ear is it on?"

"Well, let's see… when I look at him it's on his right… so it must be his left ear?"

"So is he…?"

"I think if it's on the _right_ ear it means he's gay."

"So Richie's not, then."

"Well, I mean, maybe he just got it to look cool."

"That's a possibility."

"But still—"

"Shh! Here he comes, with Virgil! Daisy, here's your chance!"

"My chance to do what--?"

Brightly, "hey, guys! Speak of the devil!"

"Uh oh." Pushes glasses up his nose. "What are the two gossip queens talking about _this_ time?"

"Not much, really." A muffled giggle. "Hey, Richie… I actually was going to ask you something. Mind if we go talk somewhere… privately?"

"Frieda, this doesn't have to do with the bogus interview I gave you last week, does it? Because all of what I said was _theoretically _true—"

"What?! Richie, you mean you _lied_ to me about your source material?"

"You promised me a free meal at the Burger Fool if I agreed to the interview—I wasn't going to pass it off!"

"You compromised my journalistic integrity for a triple-deluxe bacon cheeseburger, Richie. I am going to stone your ass."

"…catch me if you can!"

"Richard Osgood Foley, you come back here!"

Pattering footsteps echoing into the distance.

"Ah…hm." Clearing her throat. "Well, they certainly make a pair."

Narrowed eyes. "I'd have never thought."

"So…" A pause. "How are you, Virgil?"

Distracted. "What? Oh, I'm fine. How're you, Daisy?"

"Oh, apart from the bruised ego, I guess I'm okay."

Tentatively, "bruised ego?"

"Virgil, you…" Gathering up courage. "Do you like me, or not?"

Facevault. "Guh?"

"Oh, forget about it. Forget I said anything."

"Wait… Daisy… what brought this on?"

"I don't _know,_ Virgil." Frown. "You call me up, and then you ditch me. More than once."

"But—the last time that happened, it was like… what. Five or six months ago?"

"That's the _point_, Virgil. It was six months ago."

"So…?"

"_So,_ if you—if you liked me, or something, you wouldn't keep staring at me in class all the time when you don't think I'm looking! And every time I try to hang out with you you always have some excuse! Virgil, none of us get to see you these days! I'm not jealous or anything, but lately it seems like all you're doing is hanging around Richie, and all of us are starting to miss you guys. Plus, I _know_ you two don't have that many classes together, and you've already watched all your zombie thrillers thirty times over, so—"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Daisy." A step back. "I really look at you? A lot?"

Exasperated. "Everybody knows, Virgil."

"Oh man… Richie's gonna kill me." Muttered.

"What'd you say?"

"Oh!" Hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Nothing! I mean, Daisy," clearing his throat. "You're a very pretty girl. Why wouldn't anybody look at you?"

"_Look_, dude." Crossing her arms. "If you want to, just ask me out. I'm not going to say no."

"Oh." A cornered look. "Uh, well, you see, Daisy—"

"But you don't want to, just stop playing games with me! I've had it up to _here_ with these last two years of cat and mouse!"

"Daisy," big, puppy dog eyes, "I'm really sorry for all of that."

"Well," a forgiving smile. "Homecoming _is_ coming up. You can make up for it. Buy my ticket, pay for my dinner, that sort of thing."

A sheepish chuckle. "Nice try, Daisy. I knew you were just trying to get a free lunch out of guilt-tripping me. Lucky for you, it almost worked."

"Almost?" A raised eyebrow.

"I've… already got plans."

"I see." A smirk. "Must be somebody pretty amazing, from the way you're looking right now."

Eyes refocusing. "Wha…?"

"I called it. You're totally spacing." Gentler, "must be pretty special, huh?"

Widened eyes. "I have absolutely _no _idea what you're talking about."

"Fine. Keep denying it, Virgil. But word will get around soon. I _know_ you've been seeing someone… you look different lately."

"I do?"

"Just make sure to invite me to the wedding when you and what's-her-face get married."

"Oh," darkly. "You really could call it a whole other engagement."

Huffing, puffing, a hand slamming down on the table. "Nice to see you guys."

"Richie!" Worried. "Bro, you look… tired."

"I think I lost her, dude." A wink. "It took a bit of maneuvering, but you know I've been working out lately."

Sheepish laughter between the two boys.

Speculatively, "you _have_ been working out, Richie. Your arms have gotten a lot bigger."

"Ah, well," flexing. "A healthy diet, exercise, the occasional anabolic steroid…"

"Says the man who ate three pepperoni pizzas and two liters of soda yesterday at my house…"

"Sharon was cooking! I had to order out. You should be _thankful_."

"Well, Daisy's right. You've gotten bigger. In a good way." Laughing. "Good job, bro."

"You checkin' me out, V?" A half-twirl. "Too bad… these goods are _not_ on the market, unfortunately."

"Oh my god, you guys." Shaking her head, "get over yourselves."

"Hey, I see Frieda coming. And her hair is all out of place. V, we gotta go before she throws another BF."

"BF?"

"Bitch fit. _Come on_." Insistent tugging. "Catch you later, Daisy!"

Angry, unladylike stomping.

"Where'd he go, Daisy? Let me get my hands on him—"

Sigh. "You can drop the act, Frieda. They're both gone. And I got enough time to get a word in with Virgil."

"Oooh." Sitting down. "So, what gives?"

"Nothing. He's totally preoccupied."

Frown. "With what? Last time I checked the rumor mill—"

"—which is every day—"

"—he was still single."

"Well, he's pretty taken, that's for sure. I pretty much asked him to homecoming and even told him that I wouldn't say "no" if _he_ asked me out. He said he had other plans."

"Maybe he's playing hard to get?"

"Frieda, in case you forgot, _I'm_ the girl in this… non-existent relationship here."

"Oh yeah. My bad."

"I practically threw myself at him. But it was okay… we played it off like a joke afterwards."

"That's good. At least it ended well."

"There wasn't anything to begin with."

"Still."

"Well, at least I can move onto other guys now. Like Static."

Quiet laughter. "That's probably even more of a lost cause than Virgil."

"Argh… crime-fighting, television gigs, getting cement thrown in his face every day… he probably wouldn't even have time for a girlfriend. Plus, what if he's like 30 years older than us? I mean, it doesn't seem that way, but behind that mask, you never know."

"Eww… major sketch factor, Daisy."

Thoughtful silence.

"So, where'd they go off to?"

"Oh… Richie wanted to avoid one of your BFs."

"Ugh, they're always disappearing off together. We never get to…" A soft gasp, "you don't think—"

"Think what?"

"Wait." A pause. "What's a BF?"

**x x x x x**

"Whew!" Slumped over. "That was one hell of a dance."

"Frieda, you've been dancing for over an hour now. Even your date is getting tired."

"Are you kidding?" A glance over at the dance floor. "I have to watch be with him the whole time otherwise he'll just start dancing with some other girl. Otherwise I would have taken to the punch bowl a long time ago."

"He's been surprisingly good." Sipping her drink. "I would have expected him to blow this place sky-high in flames by now."

"He cleans up nicely." A slightly dazed look. "The whole T-shirt-tucked-into-underwear thing doesn't usually do much for me, but the whole dress shirt and tie thing is doing wonders for my circulatory system."

"Girl… that's the adrenaline talking, _not_ your attraction to Francis."

"I'm _not_ attracted to him." Indignant. "He offered me a ride."

"And that's the whole reason you're here at homecoming with Mr. Flaming Lips."

"I really don't know if he's got flaming lips. Yet."

"Frieda, you are _not_ hooking up with this guy when the night is over."

"Okay, okay, I promise!" A look over her shoulder. "I should get back to the dance floor. Looks like he's starting to mack on Madelyn."

"She really outdid herself this time." A dry smile. "I heard she got her dress designed by Giovanni Versace himself."

"Daisy, Giovanni Versace is long dead."

"My point exactly."

"It looks expensive." Slight jealousy. "She always has to be the center of attention, doesn't she?"

"Be glad you're only wearing that Jessica McClintock number from the bargain rack." Giggling. "Otherwise your _boyfriend_ might give into his kleptomaniac tendencies… and steal your dress right off you. Along with your dignity."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Daisy."

"Toodles."

A pause. "Where's your date?"

"He's busy cleaning himself up in the little boy's room."

A raised eyebrow. "Dance floor grinding action prove to be too hot for him to handle? _Awkward_."

Resigned. "It's worse than that. I landed myself a chronic perspirator."

"I don't think that's a word, Daisy."

"He sweats a lot. A _lot_. I couldn't even dance a foot from him without feeling like I was in the rainforest. It was _that_ humid."

Wrinkles her nose. "Damn. I'm sorry for you."

"Well, there's not much anybody can do."

"…I think I have some anti-perspirant in my purse. For your date. If he wants."

"Don't worry about it, Frieda." A shooing motion. "Go back to your bad boy."

Glaring. "Who is being _very _bad. Oh, Francis and Madelyn are going to _pay_."

Thumbs twiddling. "When is Eric going to get back from the bathroom? I've been waiting by the crabcakes stand for the last half an hour, at this rate we're going to miss the whole dance—"

A blood-curdling scream.

"_Bitch!_" Pitched even higher. "You ripped my dress! It's _real_ Versace!"

"It's the only real thing about you, Madelyn! What, did you come without a date so you have to go stepping on other peoples' toes?"

"You fucking stepped on my dress, bitchface!"

"_Son_ of a bitch!"

"Attention whore!"

"Cuntsack!"

"Ooooh." Murmurs of the crowd. "She said the "C" word."

"Fuckwad!"

"Dickweed!"

"_FRIEDA GOREN!_" Incredibly pissed off. "_WHERE THE FUCK IS FRIEDA GOREN?!_"

The door slams open. Hushed whispering, pale faces. DJ stops spinning the track.

"_Aquamaria_?"

"Hotstreak, you're gonna _pay!_"

"Hold on, baby! It's not what you think it is!"

"No explanation is going to be good enough for me, Hotstreak! You're coming with me! And _you!— _little Jewish piece of ass— you think just because you're some hot shit you can take my man and schlep away intact?!_"_

"Francis, who _is_ this?"

"Uh… Frieda, babe, she's an old friend…"

"You don't know how friendly I can _be_." A nasty laugh. "

"Hey, I didn't do anything wrong! If he's your putz, then you'd better keep him in line!"

"Not my problem." Raising herself to her full height. "Don't be a whore in your next life, sweetie."

"Hold it right there, Aquamaria!"

"Static!" A collective sigh of relief.

"You stay out of this, spark-boy!"

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Aquamaria!"

"Gear, that was kind of corny."

"What, Static, just because you got the first line in, I can't add in my two cents?"

"You two just _shut_ your mouths! I have business with Hotstreak!"

"Maria… baby, look, can't we talk about this? Come on. Let's talk about it."

"_No. _You thought I wouldn't notice that you were working out? You thought I wouldn't notice the red sports car?"

"Not to mention dating the underaged high school girl on the side—"

"I thought I told you two to _shut up_!" A jet of water, sloppily aimed.

"A middle-aged crisis isn't your style, Hotstreak."

"Shut the fuck up, Static!"

"I'd be glad to. Why don't we all go outside—"

A flood of water through the gymnasium. Burbling screams. Subsiding of water.

"Static—Static! You all right, man?"

Groaning. "Yeah, dude. I'm okay. Just all shorted out now." A few dying sparks from the fingertips. "Where's Hotstreak?"

"Gone. Aquamaria must have taken him when she submerged everybody underwater."

"Well, maybe it isn't justice's duty to interfere with a lover's spat."

"As long as neither one of them calls the domestic violence center, I think we'll be okay not stepping in on this one."

"Static! Gear!" Hands waving, running up in wet shoes. "Thanks, you guys."

"No problem, Dai—" Clearing his throat. "Daisy, right?"

A beaming smile. "Yeah… hopefully Frieda won't feel too bad."

Mild grumbling. "Well, we all need to be whipped into our senses now and then."

"In Hotstreak's case? He's whipped enough already."

"Gear, you've got to stop with the puns!"

A giggle. "Thanks for saving the day again, you guys."

"No problem. As you know, it's my duty to put a shock to their syst—"

"Just shut up, Static. Nobody cares about your catchphrase."

"Well, looks like _somebody's _taken up the role of primary wet blanket now." A pout.

"Wet blanket? Wet T-shirt is more like it." Grinning.

"I'm _not_ checking you out, dude. Or your lame threads."

"Well, this gear isn't on the market, anyways." A wink. "Pun totally intended."

Clearing her throat. "Yeah. Um, thanks again, Static. Gear."

"No problem, Daisy." A warm smile. "But just get yourself out of those wet clothes before— ow! Who pinched my arm?"

Looking away. "Don't look at me, Static. I didn't do it."

"If you guys want to be even better heroes," an innocent smile, "one of you can be Frieda's date for the evening! Since Hotstreak… I mean, Francis… is otherwisely occupied and all."

"Um—"

"_Sorry_." Firmly. "But Static and I haven't finished our patrol yet for tonight. And we really have to return the Ferrari that Hotstreak stole, _right,_ Static?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course. We've—" A glance over. "we've already got plans."

A nod. "All right… well, don't let us keep you!"

"Good luck with the cleanup… sorry we can't stick around."

"Hey, Static?"

Turning around. "Yeah?"

"How do you take a shower if you short circuit in water?"

"Very, _very_ carefully."

**x x x x x**

"I hate Mondays, dude. And Sunday night patrol was_ rough_."

"Who knew that the mother of all nuns would strike? That ruler was too big to be legal."

"Why the heck would a nun be by the docks on the night of the Big Bang, anyways? I'd like to know how she got her superpowers."

"She was probably forcibly forgiving people of all their sins. With a ruler. A very hard, wooden ruler. You felt it too, Virgil. She spanked you as hard as she spanked me."

"Well." A grimace. "The point is, bro, we put her away behind bars."

"And—oh, here comes Daisy."

"Hey, Daisy!"

"Hey, guys!" A sunny smile. "Richie, do you mind if I borrow Virgil for a bit? It'll be really quick."

"Sure. I was going to get something from the snack machine, anyways. I'll be back."

A pause. "So, Virgil."

"What's up, Daisy?"

"How was your weekend?"

"Pretty good…" Cautious. "Why?"

"I dunno. Was it exciting?"

"Uh… yes? And no? Define 'exciting.'"

"You know, exciting. Like in an exciting sort of sense. Where you get excited? Come on, Virgil."

"Um… yes. I guess you could say parts of it were exciting."

"Certain 'special' parts, right?"

"Um…"

"I bet it was pretty electrifying. And wet. Really, really wet. Dripping."

A furious blush. "…Daisy? I don't know what you're trying to get at, but…"

"And I bet sparks were just flying _all over the place._"

"No! Well—"

"And you spent it with Richie, right? You were with Richie this weekend."

"Daisy--!" Panicked.

"I promise I'm not going to tell, Virgil." Reassuring.

"Well, um, I guess that's good…"

"You guys can tell the world when you're ready. But until then, your secret is safe with me."

"That's great, Daisy, but me and Richie really aren't sleeping—"

"I won't tell anybody that you guys are Static and Gear."

"—together."

Silence.

"…_what_?"

"_What_?"

"Okay. Stop." Blinking. "Are we on two totally different wavelengths?"

Nervous laughter. "I don't know. I mean—"

"What do you mean, you're not _sleeping _together?"

"I mean, oh, you know what? I think Richie's having some trouble with the vending machine. Yep. It's just the luck of the Irish, you know, they get their dollar bills eaten up all the time by those damn vending machines. I should go help him kick it or something. Bye, Daisy!" Dashing off.

"Virgil—_Virgil_!"

Pause.

"Damn."

**x x x x x**

Reviews & concrit are most appreciated! I really had a good time writing this piece, and the pure-dialogue format was an interesting experiment, if a bit difficult to handle sometimes. This is my second piece in the fandom and my attempt at something more fluffy and silly. Frieda with Hotstreak? xD When Hell freezes over, maybe.


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